Just Human
by VioletYami
Summary: A young girl comes to realize the truth of her past, as she transforms from a naive child to something very different. She may be just an insignificant human, but who she is, is of the utmost importance to humans and mutants alike. Please R&R!
1. Miscalculation

**Hi! New story!! I hope you enjoy it! PLEASE leave a comment, like how you like it, maybe constructive critism. Anything is nice! Oh yeah I don`t own the x-men. Please enjoy! I`ll try to get each one up really soon!**

**Violet**

* * *

My name is not really important; sure I was born with one. No one ever called me that, not even my parents or teachers. My parents called me kid, or daughter. The teachers called me green eyes, why? I'll never know. The students just gave me horrible, stupid insulting names. My brother never said my name nor called me anything, if he did it was sis. This is a story of an unimportant, stupid 15 year old, the story of a girl with no name, the story of your plain ordinary human. This is my story.

I've always wanted to be special, and then those mutants started to show up on the news, then in our city, then in my school, and finally in my home. My brother started to grow gills. At first it was almost unnoticeable, thin lines on his necks. My parents didn't notice, they seldom are home anyway. Ironically this was a week after our parents had pulled us out of our school because numerous of the students were confirmed mutants. So are parents sent my brother and I to a prestige private school. I hated it there, the other kids were brats and we were poor compared to them. These other teenagers had cars, summer homes, butlers, cooks and they were only 15 years old. They couldn't even drive yet! So mommy and daddy bought them a chauffeur. I was alone; I fell into a pit of depression. Mostly I lost sleep, and my fellow classmates nicknamed me raccoon. My eyes had black rings around them and this caused my bright green eyes to shine out more. I was known as that creepy racoon kid. I tried to hang with brother but he was usually hiding in the bathroom or empty classroom. He had become edgy and developed a hidden and suspicious nature, we both had it bad. This is when I noticed that Nicholas, my brother, started to wear turtle necked shirts and scarves. Finally I realized something was wrong with him when we got home from school one day.

The same white door greeted us once we came up to our house. I dug my hand into my plain average school bag. I had to get out of this idiotic kilt and head to work.

"Shit!" I exclaimed rummaging through my bag and bringing my hand out empty handed. I look around the house and see my brother walking up the pathway his head hanging low. His shaggy dark brown hair hung in his eyes. He wore a grey scarf around his neck and his eyes came out to look at me. This was the first time I had noticed, his once black eyes were fading and were now a gray colour. This was also my first indication to me something was wrong. God, I was an idiot. I was so caught up in y life I failed to see something was wrong with my brother. And this would cause me to lose my brother.

"Nick, what's up with your eyes? I asked curiously, turning to face him.

He brushed his hair into his face and twisted his face away from me, "Nothing sis, just open the door."

I opened my moth to argue, but I knew I had to get to work and he wouldn't tell me anything. "I forgot my key on my desk; give me a boost to that window. Mother always leaves it opened," I tell him putting in the back of my mind my brothers changing eye colour.

He nods and puts his hands out. I jump onto them from a running start and catch the ledge that was about 3 feet above my head. I've always been good at gymnastics; I've taken it for 12 years. Also I've taken karate, only 2 years though; I didn't like the fighting style. I pull myself onto the thin ledge and try to slide the window open. I see through the window our family room, warm and cosy looking. But to me, it will always look like a prison, keeping me away from the world. I look down at my hand still trying to push open the window. It was locked.

I yell down, "It's locked!" turning back to the window, I tell myself, "I'm going to be late!" I lower myself to a hanging position on the ledge. I swing myself off the ledge, because Nicholas was standing directly below me, I swing forward, and this was a deadly mistake.

I miscalculated. A stupid miscalculation causes me to lose the only friend I ever had. My swinging threw me right through the living room window that was below the room I was trying to get through. I scream, loud and terrible as the window gives into my weight and shatters. I land on the ground, no time to put up my arms. No glass pieces entered my eyes, thank god. The rest of me wasn't that lucky though.

I gasp for air, screaming had been my first mistake glass entered my mouth and scraped up my throat before I coughed them up painfully. My mouth was bleeding furiously, and some glass entered my lungs, I was coughing up blood. My face was cut up tiny marks all over it, it stung like hell. My fingers were red with blood, a red haze had taken my gaze but I shook it away, painfully. My arm was broken and I dragged it up and looked down on my legs. A huge piece of glass had taken residence in my left leg. It was the size of a laptop, and red blood trickled from the sides. I grabbed the glass and yanked it out. Bad idea. Blood began pouring out of my leg and I start to feel dizzy and light headed. I try to hold onto my leg and stop the blood flow. It's not helping.

"Nick," I gasp my voice is weak. He is already at my side however, holding onto my shoulders.

"Sis, you're going to be ok," he tries to comfort me.

"N-no, t-t-to much b-bll-blood," I state blood dripping out of the sides of my mouth, I point indicating to my bleeding leg.

He looked down, his face pale from the sight of all my blood. He quickly unbuttoned his white shirt wrapping my leg and putting pressure on the wound. The blood seeped out still but less.

"Gi-give scarf, y-you c-ca-call hospa-ati-il," I managed to slur, grabbing at his precious scarf.

He yanked away and away from me, unsure at what to do. He looked at me; I was in pain, and dying. Maybe it was my eyes that did it, maybe something else. My green eyes dulled and warped by fear and pain. My eyes, rimmed by a dark shadow, brought out by the red on my face. Reluctantly he unwrapped the grey long scarf from around his neck. The sight made my eyes open in surprise.

On his neck were three lines, cuts. The opened every time he breathed. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. Truth be told I was jealous, like I said before I've always wanted to be special. I wanted to be a mutant. Throw fire, read minds, I would even settle for being able to predict the future. Anything. Even if that meant turning into a fish, I would still love it. I hated the mutants that hated their mutation. It wasn't fair. I hated the people who hated mutants, they were better than us in every way. When the time came, us humans would be the ones to die out.

So here I was starring at my brother's neck as I was dripping all the blood in my body onto the floor.

"Take it!" he screamed at me, fury in his eyes, "I'm a freak, big deal." Tears welled up in his eyes; the scarf was quickly tied around my leg, stopping the blood flow. I was still in shock. He walked away and grabbed a telephone. I faded to black, finally, from lack of blood.

That was the last time I saw him.


	2. Memories

**Yeah! I'm on a roll! Darn no reviews, :P maybe this time :D please? So please enjoy and review!**

**Violet**

* * *

I'm first conscious to the voices. Whispering near my feet. I recognize one, but I can't seem to place it. Not my mothers, yet it is female. Ugh, my head is killing me, and I feel as if someone was skating on my face. I start to remember few bits of pieces; I remember blood, and glass. I feel if I'm missing something, something about mutants. But all the blood, that's all I can remember. I try to breathe out my mouth, but I can't. I slowly began to feel the tubes that run down my throat and nose. I hear the whir of machines beside me. There breathing for me.

I try to remember my life, some bits snap right back to me instantly. The girls I despise, the names the called me. Then I try to remember my own name, I know I knew it before but… I can't now. I remember all the other names everyone's called me, but I haven't used the other name in so long. The loss of blood must have injured my brain.

Slowly I felt feeling come back into my arms and I felt the stinging from the open wounds. I hoped that they had gotten all the glass out. My face stings like hell and I don't think I'll ever look the same. Not that I was ever really that pretty. My face is quite round, I've always hated it, people always tell me it's pixie like, I really don't give a damn. I'm quite short actually only 5'4 and not growing anymore, and I'm as skinny a stick. Whenever we used to swim people always laughed because they could count my ribs. I'm guessing it has something to do with my Japanese heritage. Anyway I'm not a supermodel and with all these cuts I'm going to end up being even uglier.

The feeling spreads into my legs, I feel a jagged pulsing pain where I had that giant piece of glass stuck. Now that I think about it I'm probably on drugs and once off them, the pain was going to kick in. Great. I try to move any limb, but my body won't move. My brain feels sluggish as memories trickle back. I feel like I'm watching an old movie, of my life. Still no name though. I hear a whisper in one memory, Mora. No, that's defiantly not my name, but it sounds familiar. I don't even know why, and now that I think about it, I didn't even have that name in my memories before the accident. Whatever, does it really matter?

I guess my body was starting to work because I started to hear what the voices were saying at the bottom of my bed.

"And you've done the parents?" I hear an older male voice ask the other person in the room.

"Yes they were simple, plus the brother," the female tells the man, why does she sound so familiar?

I hear steps as someone gets up, "This is so ironic, at least the girl hasn't developed a mutation. However we can conclude that the mutation has nothing to do with genetics of the parents. Those two were absolute perfect," the male voice continues. To me this is almost useless gibberish.

Wait, brother? Nicholas! More memories flow back. Nicholas, 14 year old brother, shy, best friend, and gills! Hell, how did I forget him? At the accident he showed me his mutation!

The girl speaks back to the man, "But the projects still ok, right? I mean she's not dead, and she's not a mutant."

"Yes, everything is ok, in the larger picture, everything is perfectly fine," the man stated simply, he sat back down with a thump.

Ok, I was terribly confused at this point. It's a good thing I'm not a mutant? What?

"So what do we do about her brother," the female voice asked.

"Delete him out of this life, and then he'll probably just become another test subject," the man said no change in his voice.

I let out a gasp, well sort of; it was more of a gurgle due to the tubes prodding through my throat.

I heard a swish and I guessed they were turning their heads to stare at me. Shit.

"Is she awake?" the female asked. I tried to open my eyes but still they were still too heavy to move. Unfortunately in trying to move my eyes I somehow twitched my arm.

I hear the rushing of legs moving, "Shit she's awake, you need to erase her memory now!" I heard them shout-whisper. Someone grabbed my head and I feel as if I'm drunk.

I screamed in pain as I felt memories being taken from my mind, someone was ripping my memories out of my mind. It felt terrible, like someone was pulling my hair out.

I found my voice despite the tubes in my mouth, and I gathered all the energy I had to sit up and grab the neck of the memory thief. The neck was thin and defiantly female. I couldn't believe I had actually sat up. It was the most painful thing I have ever done, I felt my stitches tear and under my clothes I felt blood dripping down my back from my newly opened wounds.

I gripped her neck, I had sat up, yet still I couldn't open my eyes. It was like they were tape shut.

"You'll never take my mind," I manage to gasp. I felt blood dripping down the sides of my mouth and I began to fight with my mind.

Slowly but surely I felt my mind pull away from hers. It felt like that I had needle thin wire embedded into my mind. And ripping out her mind felt like I was pulling out each of these wires. I heard the girl scream, at the exact moment I screamed. We were both in pain with me pulling away from her mind power.

"Get out of my head," I yell.

"Relax, just let go and it will all be over, just let go," she gasps I feel her hand shaking on my forehead.

I fight; I fight as hard as I can. The pain, oh god, the pain. But still memories fade, slower, but they still fade. The ones disappearing all have to with my brother. The witch tries to implant other memories, and I have trouble trying to figure out which ones are real.

"Hurry up!" I hear over my mind screaming, from the other man in the room. Where are the god damn doctors? Can't they hear me scream?

"Get out," I say through clenched teeth. I try to close my hand tightly around her neck. My other hand lay useless hanging next to me. I forget how I broke it. I feel tears mixing with the blood still dripping from my mouth. What's my name?

Something jumbled comes from my mouth not even English. I feel my grip loosening as my energy drains. I'm losing the battle.

"Mine," I mumble still attempting to fight. My head sinks to my chest as the ripping of the mental wires slows.

I hear the girls breathing slow down from their once short, fast gasps. Her hand gripping on my forehead becomes stronger. The pain gets worse as I weaken.

Finally I make a decision, I give up.

I felt my hand slip from her neck and my head falls to the pillow.

Who am I?

* * *

"Hey Kiddo, you awake?" my fathers voice rings in my ears. I shift my body, and try to nod but I'm so tired.

I grumble, "No."

My eyes flicker and I lift my arm to scrape off the gunk my eyes that glued my eyes shut. However my arm refuses to move I can't feel it all.

I move my other arm, it's still tired but I manage to open my eyes to see the faces of my parents. My mothers bob cut, bright pink lipstick and the face of a woman whose face has had too much plastic surgery. My fathers lined face, thick glasses, and brown eyes.

"What's wrong with my arm?" I moan. I feel drool dripping out of my mouth and a tube going down my throat. Ugh, gross.

"Why am I here? What happened?" I go on; my memory feels foggy, as if they weren't mine.

"You fell sweetie, tripped and fell through the window. You had glass everywhere, lungs, giant piece in your leg. You pulled it out though, that's why you probably don't remember things. You lost a lot of blood.

I looked at her strangely, the words "sweetie" sounded strange on her lips. Something flashed in my mind, my key in my hand, tripping over the side of our walkway and crashing through the window. I blinked another memory flashed, a neighbor coming over and with a phone in his hand. That's all I remember really. Why does it seem so fake though? I shrug it off; I don't need any more problems.

"So where's Nick?" the words coming out of my mouth without even thinking.

"Hon, who's Nick?" my father asks combing through my hair.

My eyes wide I look up at him, "I…I really don't know."

I look down at my hands and whisper, "I don't know."


	3. Hurt

**Well I'm still not dead :D So please please review :P I need some input. Also read my other story I Will Control It, which sorta ties into this one. Thanks! **

**Violet Yami**

* * *

My hair was plastered to my face, sweat dripped off my skin. I was in so much pain, my arm still broken and leg out of use. Paper thin cuts were scattered on the surface of my skin, still red from injury. My head felt as if someone was jabbing a pen in it while attempting to rip off my head. It sure does feel good to be alive.

I lay on the white bed sheets, silent and brooding. I was attached a nearby machine that helped me breathe, the name escapes me. Heart pads remain attached to my chest and the beeping reminds me I'm still alive. I can barely move, and if I did my body would ripple with pain.

Laying here allows me to think, organize my thoughts. I think I'm going insane. I remember tripping into the window and I remember bleeding, but it's like watching a fuzzy, broken down TV. None of it feels real. I blink my eyes quickly, why do I feel like crying? I feel as if I've lost something and along with it something has been stolen.

I push the thoughts out of my mind; I can barely breathe for the glass has ripped up my lungs. I have a tube shoved down my throat and other tubes fed into my stomach or arm. The doctors are amazed that I'm not dead from the bleeding. I was told later that I needed 3 blood transfusions before I could be patched up.

Now I know how Frankenstein felt like, I'm full of stitches and bandages. Actually now if I think about it, I was a cross between a mummy and Frankenstein. In all my appearance had changed dramatically. My hair had been before long and plain. The doctors a cut it shorter after surgery, considering it was full of blood. Now it was chin length and I also had bangs now, something I've always hated. They always get in my eyes and obviously these doctors can't cut hair. They had thinned out my hair so much my hair now stuck out naturally and the cut was so uneven my hair almost looked fashionable.

On top of that I had so many scars I look like I fell into a pool of nails and pins. My nose had broken when I had fallen through the window so my nose was slightly crooked with the splint still in it. But I still was skimpy but muscular and I was still short. And I still had my freaky green eyes and the dark circles around them. So all and all I was still a freak.

Speaking of freaks, I feel as if something's wrong with my parents. They almost have a glazed over look on their faces all the time as if their high. They visit everyday bringing gifts and calling me "Honey," "Sweetie," and other sugary names I hate. It's like they've been zombiefied, but throughout all my past memories they've called me that. Weird, and also I have some strange blanks in my memory.

Take this for example, I can't remember my name. Call me psycho or crazy but I seriously can't remember. Everything I remember, there is no mention of a name anywhere. And if I ask my parents, I'll sound like a freaking idiot. So I decide to let things just move along and maybe they'll mention it. The doctors call me Miss. And the sheet on my bed only says patient 335357838087. What a name, 335357838087.

I hear a creak and the sliding of the door opening and footsteps shuffle into my room. I attempt to move my head to discover my visitor but body was exhausted and refused to move an inch.

My mother's voice informs me, "Honey? How are you feeling?" not bothering to listen for my answer, "The doctor's here to tell you your injuries."

The doctor clears his throat, "Well, your injuries were pretty life threatening, considering the amount of blood loss. Also your lungs were sliced up by the glass, as was your stomach lining and throat. You also broke your nose and arm; on top of that you severed a major artery in your leg." I hear the shuffling of paper, "All in all, you should be dead. But you're healing at an amazing rate, something almost impossible for a human being…" his voice trailed off.

I snort, healing at an amazing rate? I'm lying in bed, unable to breathe on my own and too exhausted to turn my head. If this is healing at an amazing rate, what is healing at a slow rate? But I know what this doctor is getting at; he thinks I'm a mutant.

My voice rasps out of my dry lips, "I'm not a mutant doctor." As much as I think how awesome it would be to have mutant abilities, I knew deep down, I was just plain, ordinary me.

"I believe you," his tone telling me, he doesn't actually believe me, "However your mother has asked for the test to be done. So we are just going to take a little blood."

I laugh the best I could, "Doctor, you just said I've lost a lot of blood. Meaning I've had a transfusion or two. I'm not sure if they taught you this in med school, but doesn't that mean I have someone else's DNA in me?"

The doctor turned bright red, caught by his own mistake. He wringed his hands nervously, "Ah, you are correct, this does bring up a problem. Doesn't it?" He gave a nervous laugh, "Well we'll just have to settle for a urine sample, won't we?"

I was escorted to the washroom, and I'll leave it at that. About half an hour later I'm back in my bed, in more pain than before. I feel my eyes close and sleep comes easily.

I see a girl, I think it's me, but she's different. She smiles at me as if finding me funny. Her eyes, they're an eerie gold, glowing. She seems older but other than that she is me. I look at myself, I wonder if this is the future. Then I hear a shot and the girl breaks into a million pieces, but now she's glass, broken to pieces, littered on the ground. I look around for the shooter, unnaturally calm for having seen myself shot. I feel the wind brush by me, and now I'm in an empty field. A whisper fills my ears, Mora, that name again. I look around the grass green around me and the sky blue. I feel something warm and liquid dripping down my stomach. I look down and see blood, dripping down from a wound on my stomach. I go to stop it, but as suddenly as it had appeared, it disappeared. The scene had changed again; I was in water, surrounded by fish, swinging to and fro. I reach to touch them, but they swim from me, almost fearful. Then I feel my lungs seize up and suddenly I'm unable to breathe underwater. I panic, drowning, I try to scream.

My eyes fly open to my darkened room, I'm drenched in sweat and I had bitten my tongue while I had been asleep. I don't move, still shocked by the nightmare. It had been so real, it scarred me. I wondered what it meant, I barely ever had dreams. Terrified, I don't want to sleep. I start to cry, what is happening to my life?

Eventually I fell asleep again and I awoke once again, after a dreamless sleep. Last night's dream still etched in my mind. My parents come once again to visit me; I'm not looking forward to it.

My father walks in first, bringing with him a huge box wrapped with wrapping paper. A huge smile is plastered to his face. He drops the box on my toes, but I don't feel much below my waist at the moment. "Great news sweetie!" he tells me.

"What," I mutter half heartedly, not really caring.

"We got the tests back! You are completely normal; you probably have a better metabolism or something." My mother exclaims as she walks into the room and sits at my bedside, and she starts to stroke my hair.

I don't bother to avoid her hand, "Yippee," I mutter and attempt at a smile.

My mother goes for it and smiles back, then kisses my forehead, "Oh I knew you would be so happy!"

"Well kiddo, open your gift!" my father exclaims, but he checks his blackberry. Obviously I'm not as important as him being late for something.

I give another fake smile and go to unwrap the gift. I'm able to lift my hands weakly but I don't have enough strength to rip the paper. My father, impatient, comes to my side and helps me rip the paper off and shoves it into the waste basket. He opens the brown box and motions me to look inside.

I ponder on what he got me this time; the last week had been filled with presents of candy, stuffed bears and balloons. I look into the box curious and my eyes open double in size. Never in a million years did I even think I would ever get this.

In that innocent brown box, were two brand new handguns.


	4. Guns

**Heya peoples! Back from a break, hopin more people comment on this! However great thanks to SSfan for their lovely comment XD you made my day :P Please still check out I Will Control It, it ties into this. Still don't own the x-men XD Thanks!**

**Violet 3**

* * *

I gasp and sputter, almost choking on the tube shoved down my throat. What the hell was going on? I shove the box off my lap, what are they thinking? My parents look at me confused, the panic shown through my eyes.

"Sweetie? Are you ok? Don't you like them? I thought you might like something small and deadly. Maybe I should have gone with what that sales person recommended. I just didn't see you carrying something like a Desert Eagle around. I didn't think my little girl would've like something big and showy," my Dad smiles at me picking up the box.

I can barely look at my father straight, have they gone insane? Who on earth buys guns for their kid? These things, they're killers. Does he expect me to actually walk around armed? My face pales, and the heat leaves my body, my stomach flip flops and I feel light headed. Millions of questions fly through my mind, but none come to my throat.

My mother nudges my father, "Dear, I think she's going into shock."

My father looks into my face then his smile disappears, "There's nothing to worry about kiddo, these are just for protection! With all those muties running around these days, you can't be too safe. I even heard a rumor this one guy is creating an army by starting a school for their kind."

These claims fell on deaf ears; I was still stuck on the fact that my parents had bought me GUNS! I was never one for violence; I learnt karate for defense against bullies. I think if it came down to it, I don't think I could shoot anyone. My mouth opens then closes, like I'm a fish drowning on land. I look up and stare at my father; I have no idea what to say.

"Honey, don't look at me like that," he places his hand on my shoulder, "I'm only doing this to keep you safe. I don't want to see you get hurt. Seeing you like this, I know you're just human. I realize I won't always be there. I haven't always been there for you have I? Only now do I realize how precious you are. I don't want to loose you." Tears stream down his face; I look closer and see the shadow of pain in his eyes. Maybe I had been too hard on my parents. Maybe they really did care; maybe I had been blinded by anger. I feel something wet slide down my face, and I realize they're tears.

"Its ok dad," I rasp and I reach up and embrace my father like never before. My mother slides next to us and places her arms around me too. My father presses his lips to my forehead, leaving them there for a while, he pulls away. He dabs at his tears with his sleeve.

"Well, I talked to my coworker and he's agreed to give you lessons," my father explains to me.

I nod, no way good I disobey now, he only wanted to do this for my protection. I give a faint smile, even though the idea of even firing a gun sends butterflies to my stomach.

A nurse slides my door open, "I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Kiyoshi, but your daughter has an examination soon and visiting hours are over," she tells my parents softly, noticing the tears.

My parents kiss me goodbye and tell me they will be here tomorrow. I hug them; my father puts the lid back on the box and slides it under the bed. He tells me just for reassurance. However those being there make me more nervous then the supposed threat of mutants. I shake my head, and try to shake away the thoughts of the guns. The nurse returns, wheeling a wheel chair.

"Ah, miss, the doctor would like to run some tests."

I give her a fake smile and nod, "Will you help me up?"

She grips my arms and slides over my motionless leg, "Of course." My body is moved sluggishly over; I don't bother to help, knowing I wouldn't make a difference. Soon I'm sitting in a rusty old wheel chair being pushed towards an examination room. I think I'm getting x-rays and some scans. The rest of the night goes by in a blur, doctors talking to me, and machines scanning me, and soon I'm back in bed, exhausted.

I swing my head to the side and catch site of the clock on the bedside table. The brightness of the clock pained my eyes, 6:25. I can't go to bed now; I'll wake up at like 3 in the morning and throw off my eternal clock. Sighing I reach for the TV remote and turn on the screen.

The news flickers on and I'm greeted by a tall blonde woman with too much makeup and plastic surgery. She is standing in front of a large building, maybe a courthouse.

"Good afternoon, I'm Linda Jacob and this is USA Today news. Minutes earlier in the US capitol building in Washington, Senator Kelly proposed the idea of mutant registration. This would force all mutants to register their names and abilities. Most of the public feels this would allow many to sleep peacefully knowing that the mutants are under control. On the opposite end of the spectrum is Doctor Jean Grey, a mutant herself. But in other news today, proving Senator Kelly's point is the news of an attack on a small family. In Buffalo, New York the Mirez family was attacked by a group of mutants and brutally murdered by them. The only survivor was the mother who survived by hiding in a closet. The father and small daughter were slain; however details of how they died are under wraps."

I switch off the TV, that's all that's on these days, death and hatred. Buffalo, it was only about an hour away from Rochester, my hometown. I thought of what I would do if someone attacked me. Would I kill them? My mind went to the two guns hidden under my bed. No, I wouldn't be able to do it. I would protect my family but if I had to kill someone. My will power wouldn't be strong enough. I ponder more, about the mutants. Maybe they really were that dangerous as people said they were, maybe we needed to keep our eyes on them. If you think about it, what stopped them from doing whatever they wanted? They were powerful and like any other human with power, what was stopping them killing everyone? Humans did terrible things to other humans. What would something not human do to a human, treat them like animals?

I shove the thoughts out of my head, I can't think like mutants aren't human. They're human, they look like humans and were born like humans. Not like clones or something, I mean mutants were created like any human, not manufactured.

I attempt to lift my arm up, test my strength. Slowly and painfully it rises, and I laugh. I stretch my fingers and I'm filled with joy at moving my own body. I hadn't thought I'd be able to move my arms up and down ever again. But my strength leaves me and my arm falls to the bed, but the happiness remains.

Life sucks you know, I wonder, what makes it worth living? Love? Joy? Just because? Well I think because we are afraid. We are all afraid of what we don't understand. That's why everyone fears the mutants I guess. We don't understand how some of the things they do are possible. But I personally hate the unknown. I have no idea what's to come but I have this sickening feeling, it won't be fun.

I fall asleep, despite trying to stay awake and I'm plagued with confusing dreams again.

This time I'm in a cage, but the outside is blurred out. But I hear voices, but none of them make sense. I stand and the scene changes again. Everything is white and the other me is back, she's dressed in all black. I look down and I'm dressed in white. She smiles at me her eyes aglow, and I find myself smiling back. She grips my hand whispers to me, "You are nothing." Her body seems to spread to the background and suddenly I'm alone and everything is black. I hear her whisper in my voice, "You are always going to be only me." Then I'm melting, being consumed by the blackness, loosing everything.


	5. Something More

Wow! One day! It's a record!! But here you are! Thanx for the comment! :P as greedy as this may sound I hope to gett more XD so please enjoy! And still don't own the x-men :P

Violet 3

* * *

Morning could not be sweeter, I awoke cold and panicked. These dreams were seriously starting to scare me. I stare at the plain white ceiling, wishing I had the energy to wipe the black bangs from my face. What did these dreams me? Was I a schizophrenic or something? Split personalities? I thought of what the other me had said. Her golden eyes seemed imprinted into my mind. I used most of my strength to grab the small mirror on bedside table. I quietly laughed; I had enough energy to grab the mirror but not to brush away my hair. I bring it up and look at my face, no golden eyes; just my bright green ones, my crooked nose and bandaged face.

I give myself a crooked smile, but it fades. What did I mean; I'll always only be me? I couldn't be better than me? I thought of how I was now, and I shrugged. Why would I want to be different? I like being me, short Asian me. So what if I wasn't good looking, I suppose I didn't really want to change. But that still didn't explain these weird dreams. Oh well I guess.

* * *

Days turned to weeks and finally after two, I was out of the hospital. My father wheeled me out, my arm was in a smaller cast and my leg was bandaged. I was still having problems breathing so I was still attached to an oxygen tank. God a month in this hole, the food was disgusting and the beds not very comfy. Breathing fresh air was such a nice change, finally I was going home.

"Well sweetie, I hope you can't wait to go home," my father smiles at me. I give him a smile back as he wheels me next to our car. I look into my reflection and see my skimpy self looking back.

My dad lifts me up and places me into the front seat of the car, "So I booked you a lesson with Jim this Friday. This guy is a master with guns; he can teach you a lot and self defense." My father smiles at me.

I pause for a second, Friday, "Dad! That's in like three days! And I can't even walk!"

My dad ruffles my hair, "Don't worry he's just going to teach the basics," he kisses my forehead. He folds my wheelchair and closes my door. I sigh; my dad was pretty serious about this whole thing about keeping me safe. I wasn't sure if I should be scared or feel safe.

My father turns on the ignition and soon we're on our way home. I stare at the Rochester scenery that flies past my window. Some green, some grey and at other times colorful. To me it's all beautiful, then again what more did I need? I now knew my parents loved me, I had a good home, and I was alive. Yet I had this hole in my chest, I couldn't help but feel that I was missing something. I looked at the backseats of the car, as cramped as it was I felt someone should be there. I pushed the thoughts out of my head, I was probably just thinking of my mother.

Finally we reach home and I peer out at our huge house. It's beautiful in an old Victorian way. The yard is a rich green and the trees were in flower. As I'm wheeled into the home my mother comes to greet me.

She looks better than she has been in years; her face is aglow and healthy. She smiles and her face is makeup free. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and she is wearing a soft pink apron.

She embraces me tightly, "So good to have you home!"

I hug her back and smile, "I'm so glad to out of there."

"Well how does cake sound like?" she exclaims obviously overjoyed to have me back.

I nod and soon the whole family is in the kitchen eating my "Welcome home" cake. One big, happy family.

_

* * *

_

Bang!

The shot rings through the warehouse, echoing throughout the building.

"See told yah this thing was loud," Jim, a gruff big man with a handlebar mustache tells me. I have no idea how my father found this guy.

"But you told me my ears should be ringing," I asked confused touching my ears and their lack of protection.

Jim looked at me confused, "They aren't ringin'? Weird cause mine are and I've been firing guns for years." He shrugged it off and handed me the large pistol.

"This is a little bigger than your two little slick babies." As he told me this I had a slightly confused look on my face, two little slick babies?

He didn't notice my face, "But it's a good training gun, it'll get yah used to the idea of a gun." He bent over my wheelchair, pulled my index finger over the trigger. "Basics are, pull the trigger the bullets gonna come flyin' out. Now this here is an automatic so you don't have to pull back the hammer every time yah fire. So this is closer to the guns you have, but yours is gonna have more bullets, meaning rather than six bullets, it can hold 8. Bullets are smaller though so accuracy is needed more. However your daddy informed me he's getting hollow tipped bullets. So that's gonna be an added fire power."

All this information flew right over my head. Hammer? Hollow tipped bullets? What?

Again ignoring the confused look on my face he motioned at me to lift my gun, "So just like I did I want you to aim for those paper targets. And then just pull the trigger."

Nervous, I was now sweating, I lifted my gun to match the height of the target and my arm tensed up. My hand started to shake and my finger would not pull. "Just relax kid, here I'll help," he says sounding slightly frustrated, he brings his hand up and pulls the trigger.

However my arm is so loose now the kickback flings my hand and gun into my head. I yelp in pain and I hear a bang but the bullet doesn't hit anywhere near the target. The bullet hits the ceiling and then ricochets into the concrete of the floor.

I drop the gun and my eyes well up with tears that start to stream down my face. "Owww," I moan in pain and clutch my face in pain. I take my hand off my lip and see a puddle of blood forming in the palm of my hand.

The huge man rolls his eyes at my tears, "Maybe your daddy was wrong to send you to these classes."

I'm about to agree with him but then my thoughts go back to the other me. With her words, "You'll always only be me," still ringing in my head I ponder. I'm better than this, maybe now I'm happy but what about later? Will I always be content with being only an everyday girl? I look at the gun; I can be so much more. And a little voice in my head tells me I'm meant for so much more.

"No, I can do this," I tell him and lift my right arm again.

Still it shakes and Jim is looking at me in doubt. Personally I'm starting to doubt what I had just stated.

Sitting in that wheelchair with blood running down my chin and my face still wet with tears, I whisper under my breath, "I can't do this."

But then almost subconsciously my left arm grabs my right arm, keeping it steady. I hear in my head, "Yes you can." And then I pulled the trigger.

_Bang!_

I didn't smack myself in the face, nor did the bullet hit the ceiling. Hell the bullet even hit the target.

It was a perfect bull's eye.

I was so surprised I laughed in joy and clasped my hand to my open mouth.

"Holy shit kid! Even I don't think anyone's beginner luck could get 'em that perfect of a shot!" Jim exclaimed pushing his sunglasses up to see the shot." Nice shootin' kid, you're a natural!"

I smiled at my shot, overjoyed at how well I had done, my eyes hadn't been closed or anything! I look down at the gun in my hand again. No longer does it seem like a scary monster or even a killer. Now I see it as what it really is, a hunk of plastic with bits of metal shoved in it. I lift it up in my hand, I realized now that what I held in my hand was powerful. This object could strike fear into millions of people's hearts. Still I knew I would never be able to shoot another human, or even a mutant. I didn't have the heart for it.

Little did I know it was that second bullet that would send me spiraling down to my twisted destiny.


	6. Kiss

So I'm really starting to get into this story, :P however i rly kinda wish more people would review it. :P so please just take the 5 min to make my day XD anyway i don't own the x-men, and if your slightly confused, this is gonna be a long fic, just sayin. So please enjoy!

Violet 3

* * *

A week goes by, and so far I've had 4 lessons from Jim, all ranging from self-defense to putting together a hand gun. He tells me I'm a natural all the time and I just smile at him. My father is extraordinarily proud of me, and my mother is also proud, but also worried of my safety. My father tells her not to worry and that these lessons are keeping me safe.

Also after a week, my leg heals enough for me to walk on it again. Though I'm walking with a limp, it's nice to walk again. Unfortunately what comes with walking again is school, and I have to face the bullies again.

Monday comes and I awake early, like I always do. I don't rush as I turn to face my mirror. You can still see the shadow of scars traced on my face, almost unnoticeable. Only one seems to stand out to me, a thin line running from my right ear just under my eye. First time ever I've wished I had makeup to cover it. The dark circles around my eyes have dimmed, but my green eyes still brightly shine.

I slip on a shirt and jeans, nothing special. I leave my hair messy, but it looks better that way. I rub my hands down my face; I didn't want to face school again. I go through the rest of my daily things and soon I'm standing in front of my school.

"Who the hell are you?" an annoying voice asks me. I know exactly who it is.

"Jennifer, how nice to see you again," I turn to give her the most obvious fake smile.

A look of disgust crosses her face, "Ew, to think I was about to say I actually like your hair. Aren't you supposed to be dead or something?"

I wish I could tear that brown hair right out of her skull, "No, unfortunately for you," not wanting to listen to her anymore I turn to walk away.

"Hey loser, where's that dorky brother of yours?" she asks me.

I slowly turn to her, confused, "Brother? Are you on crack? I don't have a brother."

She gives me a strange look, "Then who's that kid you walk with everyday?"

"What are you talking about? I walk home alone."

"Whatever," she mumbles and walks away. And I'm left confused, but I shrug it off as her mistaking me for someone else.

Suddenly an older man runs into me and I fall to the ground my books falling everywhere, "Ahhh!" I scream in pain as he lands on my leg.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry," the man exclaims, picking up my books.

"Should look where you're going," I mumble as I push myself up.

He peers at my face, he looks about late 20's with dark hair and dark eyes, "You're Zero," he states his eyes widening.

"Sorry, what?" I ask confused, again.

"I'm so glad I found you!" he reaches out to me, as if he's going to hug me. I back away with a strange look on my face. A look of sadness goes across his face but is replaced by a grin, "I'm here to give you a message."

I continue to stare at him, "Who are you?"

"No time to explain, but you have a brother. You must find him before its too late!" he tells me. He closes his eyes, almost like he's meditating. He opens them suddenly, "And please, don't die." He grabs me by the front of my shirt and pulls me closer. I'm about to punch him in the face, but then he kisses me. Straight on, first ever kiss. Then he pushes me away and grabs the doorknob of a door and walks through.

I hear the door slam closed, and I attempt to chase after him. Who was he? I rush to the door and whip it open.

I greeted by two people making out in a broom closet. The girl screams and the boy slams the door on my flabbergasted face.

* * *

The day goes on and I'm left to ponder what happened. As I walk home I touch my lips, still in shock from the kiss. The guy had been almost twice my age too! And what he had said, that I had a brother. It made no sense; wouldn't my parents tell me I had a brother? I bit my lip; Jennifer too had mentioned me walking home with someone. It just didn't make sense.

I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind. I just wrote it off as a crazy mutant and Jennifer being a moron.

* * *

A month goes by and I've had over 28 lessons. I'm a pretty good shot now, always hitting the target. Also the self-defense is going well and fighting skills have much improved.

I'm out in the park on a bench; just sitting and watching the world go by, my thoughts return to that man. Even though it's been a month, I can't stop thinking of that day. Of course I hadn't told anyone, my parents would be furious. Some strange man kisses me then magically disappears? Sometimes I think I had hallucinated the whole thing.

And this whole business of having a brother, it made no sense. I had searched my house top to bottom, and had found nothing. Even searching my own memories proved fruitless, I was sure he had never existed.

A beeping interrupts my thoughts and I slid my small phone from my pocket. A message stated, "Dinner in half an hour."

I smile, I was starving. The walk home was boring but the sun shone on me, and it was very relaxing.

Suddenly I stop, right in front of my house. It's wrecked. Panic rises to my face, and I only fear for the worse. I'm about to rush right in but something stops me. I realize only an idiot would run in, what if whoever wrecked it was still there?

My hand slips into my bag and slide out one of the pistols that my dad had forced me to carry everywhere. It fits in my hand like it was made for it. I slip through the backdoor and I hear mumbling in my kitchen.

There are 3 here, and none of them are armed. Yet I feel sweat trickle down my forehead, and my knees shake in fear. One of them is slightly greenish and gross looking while another hovers slightly above the ground. Mutants.

I stay hidden as I look up at the sky. What the hell am I supposed to do? There is no possible way I can fight them. Then a scream awakes me from my thoughts. It's my mothers.

I peer around the corner, and am greeted by a horrifying image. My parents are tied up and bloodied as they scream for mercy. I clasp my hand to my mouth to stifle my scream. I slide down the wall I'm hiding behind. I have to save them; I can't just let them die. I grip the gun tighter and I make a decision, I'm going to fucking save them.

The window above my head, I can get through there. I jump up and grab the ledge and pull myself up. I press my fingers to the window panel and hit the specific pressure zones. The sheet of glass popped out into my hand. I carefully lay the sheet on the ground and slide into my parent's room.

I hear ruffling in the closet nearby, a slide to a wall and keep hidden by a dresser. An older teen walked out, about 18. He carried my mother's jewels, he had greasy hair and smirk on his face. He gripped one of her old necklaces, "This shit's not even real." He brought his hand up and the metal melted into a puddle of golden liquid. He let the puddle slide off his hand and onto the ground. I listen to any other movements, I hear none. I slip from my hiding spot.

"Don't move or I'll put a motherfucking bullet in your head."

He looks at me, "I'm a mutant, and you think you can kill me?"

"Well the question is can you melt a bullet before it goes through your skull?"

He laughs, "You're a kid, I don't think you have it in you."

I reach my hand into my bag and grab a familiar tube, "I'm not just a regular kid," I argue.

"So, you're evolved?"

"No I'm human, and you'll do as I say," I spit at him.

"Make me!" he yells and runs at me with his hands targeting my face.

I slip out my other gun from my back, this one with a silencer screwed on. I fire a bullet in his foot.

I place the back of my hand on my mouth, I'm in shock. But realizing quickly I smash the back of my gun into the teen's skull before he can scream.

He falls to the ground unconscious. I'm breathing heavily now, and I feel slightly dazed. I look at his foot, it isn't bleeding that badly and he's still breathing.

I breathe a sigh of relief; I still couldn't believe I had shot someone. Technically he wasn't human, but he looked human. I looked at the gun in my hand; I had been surprised at how much I hadn't felt. I thought shooting someone would've been so much harder and emotionally stressful.

And then suddenly I realized someone else was in the room with me.


	7. Anger

**Ok, this one is super short :P But I made the ending before the start. So enjoy and I'll get the next one up faster. Also this story is tied to my other, I Will Control It. So please comment! (don't own the X-men)**

**Violet Yami 3**

* * *

"Don't move filth," I hear a female voice say, I don't listen and I turn around to see the speaker.

She doesn't do anything, "Don't think I didn't hear you, I could hear you all the way from the basement. And smell you, you humans all reek the same odor."

I make a mental note to take a shower; I raise my gun, "So what's going to stop me from putting a bullet in you?"

"Because I bet I'm a better shot than you," she states raising her gun she had hidden behind her back. "All of my senses are heightened; my eyes can see every one of your movements in HD."

Keep my silenced gun up, was I willing to go head to with this girl? I answered with a shot aimed at her knees. She heard the grating of my trigger before the bullet fired, she fired a bullet at my head as she sidestepped left. I threw a pillow up as I let my knees collapse on me. The bullet hit the pillow, slightly slowing it down as it flew above my head. I spun around on the floor as I fired 4 bullets at the other girl, all aimed at her waist. She somersaulted away behind a bed.

"Well you have no bullets left in that gun. What are you going to do now? I can hear every one of your movement."

I closed my eyes thinking, and I suddenly got a brilliant idea. I started to scream at the top of my lungs, it even hurt my ears. I see the girl fall to the ground her hands clutching her ears. She has a look of pain on her face. I stand up and put two bullets in her knees, I hear her scream in pain and I wince at the pain I've caused.

"You're not supposed to have bullets left!"she cries in pain.

I kneel next to her, and pull out a new magazine, "I'm just special." As I flaunt the 8 bullets in the magazine and shove it into the gun.

"Someone's here!" a voice downstairs yells, and I hear the stomping of footsteps come upstairs.

The girl laughs, "See, now you're going to die."

"Fuck," I mutter and smash my gun into her head, knocking her out. I whip out my other gun and fling myself under the bed, not the greatest hiding spot, I know. In my hiding spot I peer through the crack at the door. What am I going to do? Oh this is going to turn out well, 1 human against like 5 mutants.

Two of them walk into my room and notice the two unconscious bodies of their comrades. Before I let them do anything, I fire my silenced gun into their kneecaps and before they even have time to think, they're out cold.

Quietly I slip downstairs, heading towards my parents, their safety the only thing on my mind.

"Well girl, I'm the only one left." The soft voices speaks.

I spin towards the voices, bother of my guns trained on the voices. It's a young boy, my age, with white hair and pinkish eyes.

"Sweetie! Run!" My father yells at me spitting up blood.

"Silent scum, we aren't pleased with your noise," the boy speaks with the voice of what seems like a 20 people, male and female. His pink eyes are slightly aglow and a wicked grin on his face.

"GO!" My father screams.

The boy takes no hesitation slapping my father with a crack of his hand. I wince and whimper, but my gun doesn't fall from my attacker. "You and your parents will join me. I shall take your souls like I took the others. Your knowledge becoming mine," the boy's eerie voices speaking slowly.

"Leave them alone," I try to speak quietly, my hands shaking. I look over at my unconscious mother.

"You are afraid. I'm not surprised. Do you know how I extract people's souls? I eat their brain," a crazy smile spreads across the insane boys face. With no warning the boy smashed his fist into my face and I fall back in pain. I feel blood drip off my chin; I don't bother to wipe at off as I easily dodge the boy jumping at me. I swiftly twist and slide my foot under the boy and he falls to the ground. Without hesitation I smash the backend of my gun into his ear, hard. He yelps in pain and grabs at my hair. I ignore the pain and hit him again with my gun. He doesn't flinch this time, he screams at me with an inhuman sound. He keeps a hold on my hair.

"Scum, you are not worthy of my time," the boy hisses, his eyes glowing, and glaring at me. I pull my head away and push his face away. His nails dig into my face and I can feels more blood dripping from wounds. I push myself up, smashing my gun into the boy's skull as I stand. "This world is for mutants now, die human scum!" the boy hisses, now standing up.

I fire a warning shot by his head and he stops walking towards me. "Why do you deserve to live? Why do you think you're better? Why are you doing this to us? YOU'RE A MONSTER!" I scream and I shove the gun in his face. I lose my fear for a minute, and the fury in my eyes must have scared him, for he stumbled and fell to the ground.

He quickly stands and regains his composure, "I am stronger than you human scum. I was born better. I'm doing to you because I can just take your house and money. You're weak and I can do whatever I want to you," the boy spoke in his voice of voices.

I was beyond scared now; I pressed the gun to his forehead. "You don't deserve to live. You mutants are truly monsters. I used to think you were just human," I say angrily, pushing the gun harder to his head.

"The boy smiles at me, "I am beyond human. And you are worthless and don't have the guts to actually kill me. I can see it in your eyes, you're weak."

My anger flares dangerously, "No, I'm just human." And then I pull the trigger.


	8. Killer

Been awhile :D School sucks :P Anyway enjoy :D

Violet Yami 3

* * *

The bullet tore through the boy's brain, splattering brains and blood on the carpet. I drop the gun from my shaking hands and fall to my knees. I have just killed someone.

It hadn't been my fault! I was angry, he provoked me, my hand slipped, I didn't mean it, I was afraid, it was self-defense, I-I…

A million excuses fly through my mind as I grow pale kneeling in a pool of blood. I can't stop shaking, and I almost feel numb to the world.

What have I done?

The albino's hair was slowly being stained by his blood; never again will he speak or move. I feel tears dripping down my face. It's as if nothing feels real anymore. I wave of nausea washes over me and I lean over and puke my guts onto the floor.

This can't be happening.

I sit there hacking on upchuck and my breath becomes quick and short. My fingers and toes numb and the world seems to spin. My head falls to the ground as it feels incredibly heavy. My fingers twitch and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I briefly look into the pale boy's pink eyes; he looks incredibly human, so defenseless. My breath quickens more and suddenly I find myself lost in the darkness of my mind.

What have I done?

Again I awake in a hospital to the sound of voices speaking above me. Differently however I recognize them, one being my mother, another being my father's and finally an unknown one. I guess it's the doctor's.

"What happened?" I mumble pushing myself up. My body is sore and I have a terrible headache, but other than that I feel perfectly fine.

I look beside me and see my mother and father, my father holding my mother with looks of distress on their face. They are both bandaged and my father has a cast on his arm. They look bruised and tired. I remember what had happened and my face pales.

"I killed someone, "I whisper.

My mother grips my hand, "It was self-defense, you had to dear."

"He was going to kill us, you had no choice," my father grips my shoulder.

They tell me these things but I squeeze my eyes shut and I can see the scene still behind my eyelids. I know I didn't need to kill him. I could have knocked him out, or shot his arms. I had _wanted _to kill him. My anger had been so strong; it was almost as if someone else had pulled the trigger in her furry. But… it had to be done, they were monsters. Those Mutants had been my age and they were all willing to kill me. I mean how many human's my age went around robbing and killing people. I look down at my hands, maybe I had been wrong. Maybe they needed to be controlled. I looked at the other visitor, this was not another doctor.

It was a teenager; I had no idea why I had thought it was a doctor's voice. He looked so familiar, his pale skin, dark ruffled, messy hair. His eyes were like two pools of ink and he was tall, almost as tall as my father's six feet and 2 inches. A smirk came to his lips as he watched as a look of surprise and recognition came to my face. I had met this guy once before, only had been 20 years older.

"You…" I don't finish my sentence as the man brings a finger to his lips, signaling me to keep quiet.

"Dear, this boy… this boy knows everything about you. You have to go with him," my mother tells me, her voice trembling.

I'm shocked to see my father with a solemn look on his face, tears already forming but my father refused to cry. "He's promised to keep you safe," he mutters pulling my mother from me.

"Good bye my love," my mom bawls as the two walk out the door.

I shout after them, "What are you talking about? What is going on?" I cry. My face turns angry as I face the boy, "Who are you? And what do you want mutant?" My anger for mutants flaring, my hatred runs strong because of the mutant who tried to kill me and my family. My guilt disappears.

"So you know," his voice silky smooth, the same as his future's voice though less gruff. He looks at me thoughtfully with his intelligent eyes.

"Of course, know one disappears out of thin air and then comes and visits me years younger. Except maybe a fucking mutant."

A look of sadness flashes across his face, similar to the one of his future self, "I see, your anger for mutants still runs deep."

"And I'm supposed to love mutants after almost being killed?" I say angrily and then pause, "What you mean still?"

He ignores my question and the sadness is replaced with anger, "I don't see why I should help you. I'm only doing this because my future self visited me. I thought you were kind, I remember you being kind. But now I only see hatred and contempt. He told me to help you, that you were a good person." He pauses and glares at me, "He and obviously thought wrong. You're nothing but the same as any other human. You can't see past your own "perfect" genes."

"Bastard, you don't know me. You're the ones who think you have every right to do anything you want because you can. Why do you keep acting like you know me? I've only met your future self once, never you!" I yell. I know deep down that I shouldn't hold someone else's wrongs against him. But my anger needs to be let out and I lose to my emotions. "Why do my parents think I'm going somewhere?"

The boy sighs, "I'm supposed to tell you where your brother is."

"Again with brothers, that's what you're future self told me. Before he k-ki…kissed me," I say weakly having trouble saying the word.

I see the boy's eyes flash, "He never told me that," he mutters.

I go on, "Why would he do that? Also why did he call me Zero?"

"My future self doesn't like to tell me much in case he changes the future," he tells me throwing an envelope at my feet. "You are to go to this address, save your brother and than come back to your parents. Afterwards I'll contact you again and we'll determine what to do next." Before I have time to argue I don't have a brother he holds up his hand, "You will remember when the time is right. Just do it and all your mysterious will be answered."

He closes his eyes like his other self, "And remember that the future is not set in stone," he tells me, obviously pointing out the kiss. With that he walks through the door.

I jump after him instantly pulling open the door to a normal hallway, and I can't see the boy in either direction. He had disappeared again.

I take a nap hoping this whole ordeal is another one of my strange dreams, but soon find myself in another nightmare.

I'm in a glass room and all alone. A scream runs through the small room and the glass shatters, and soon it's raining this crystal glass. The pieces fall and I feel pain as they slice open my skin. Then I feel drip from millions of wounds on my body. The two intermix as the raining glass stops. I look up and I see a boy standing in front of me. "Nicholas," the name comes off my lips in a whisper. He looks at me sadly. He pulls off the scarf and reveals slits on his throat. I barely notice them as he ties the scarf around my leg. Then gallons of water pour from the sky and I feel my self drowning. But I'm unable to die as I find myself sitting in a familiar white room.

"So you finally realize your potential," I hear my voice tell me.

I look up questionably, I hadn't spoken.

My golden eyed self steps out of thin hair smiling at me, "I guess not. But you are starting to join your unconscious self."

"What?" I ask, confused, isn't this a dream?

"Yes, this is a dream," it becomes apparent that she can read my mind. "But every human mind has two states, unconscious and conscious. Usually people cannot reach their unconscious side. Occasionally people will feel it via dreams. But only few realize your mind is a gate to everything that ever happened to you," she pauses, "Or sometimes more."

I ignore the last part, "So you know everything about me?"

She shakes her head, "No, you do." This confuses me more and the other me shrugs. "Don't you realize what you are? What your part is in this game called destiny?"

I shake my head and she sighs, "Go wake yourself up. Find your brother. And become everything you are. You are me and I am you. But in the end only one of us should be alive. It's up to you and me to decide who has the right to live," she winks, her golden eyes shining, "The human or the mutant."

With that and a rush I wake up.


End file.
